


altar boys, altered boys (we're the things that love destroys)

by scandalous



Series: Kinktober 2019 [7]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Fantasizing, Leather Jackets, Leather Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Repression, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 18:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21085691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalous/pseuds/scandalous
Summary: Chase finds House forgot his leather jacket at work.





	altar boys, altered boys (we're the things that love destroys)

**Author's Note:**

> this is.... kinda really sad tbh. pining!chase is a delight. mixing the prompts 'leather' and 'scent' for kinktober day 7.
> 
> enjoy!

Chase stays behind after everyone has left work, as usual.

What’s not usual is the fact there’s still an article of clothing left behind at the differential diagnosis room. He walks over there and immediately recognizes it as House’s leather jacket. He doesn’t know how or why he left it there— almost like it’s a trap, that he should call him up, tell him hey you forgot your jacket. He always has it on unless it’s absolutely necessary to take it off; he doesn’t remember when he hung it on the back of his chair.

He does consider calling him for a brief second, before he falls upon a realization. His stomach sinks and he fiddles with his hands. He shouldn’t be doing this, he thinks as he grabs House’s leather jacket. Should he go home with it? The other option is getting off right here, right now, which isn’t much better. He puts it on, it being a size or two too big for him, House’s wingspan wider than his by a decent amount.

He gets his things from the locker room and makes his way to his apartment. The jacket is still in perfect condition, and— before he can stop himself he buries himself in it, inhales and finds the masculine cologne House uses. It’s something earthy, he can’t quite begin to describe it, but it’s House’s scent, more or less. He gets comfortable on his bed and pulls his pants down along with his boxers, starting to stroke himself. 

House’s scent only titillates him further, makes him want more and more. Every little thing House does makes him ache with want, so it’s no surprise to him that his smell makes him want more, too. The need for something to happen in between them is unbearable; all he wants to do is for him to kiss him. He doesn’t even need it to become more than that, although he’d greatly appreciate it, but the mere image of his lips against House’s is enough to leave him in a tizzy.

He imagines being around House and wearing his leather jacket. He imagines House’s smug smile as he pulls him in for a kiss, telling him he’ll perhaps only wear his jacket the next time he’s getting fucked. He gasps and whimpers, getting harder, hips bucking up against the rough material.

“House,” he cries out, a shame that has never quite hit him before overwhelming him. He shouldn’t be lusting on his boss, he shouldn’t be getting off with his leather jacket (practically stealing said jacket), he shouldn’t be about to release to the thought of House whispering sweet nothings as he fucks into him.

He doesn’t exclusively want roughness; he doesn’t only want what perhaps is more realistic to House. He wants House to want him in a way he can only describe as tender. He wants House to kiss his hand, kiss his forehead, he wants House to kiss him slowly, without hurrying him up, without bending him over his desk. Getting bent over the desk would be incredible, too, he’s not saying that. But what he needs is love, really.

“House,” he breathes, desperate, unaware of anything else that fuck, House is who he’s in love with.

The scent only moves him closer to the edge, makes him lose control. The feeling of the leather against his hand, against his cock, against everything— before he knows it he’s spilling white on the inside of House’s leather jacket, breathing heavily, gasping for air. He pulls back and watches, almost in horror, as his come stains the jacket.

He practically runs to his bathroom to get cleaning supplies, but he’s sure it’ll leave a stain. The thought makes him shrink in on himself; House calling it out only makes him more terrified.

When he finishes cleaning it, there’s still a stain on it. He bites his lip hard, knowing he can’t do much about it. Tomorrow he’ll give House his jacket back, and he’ll have to pretend he’s not in love with him.

One more day of the same thing never hurt anyone.


End file.
